


Ordinary Fools

by transfelix



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Felix Hugo Fraldarius, M/M, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transfelix/pseuds/transfelix
Summary: For his whole life, Felix had made it a point to prepare for the worst.  Up to this point, it had served him well.  In his career, in his personal life, in his transition, and even in his sparse, dry romantic endeavors, he had expected the worst and either been painfully right or pleasantly surprised.  But nothing about his carefully calculated and tactical way of living could prepare him for the whirlwind of a man he never knew he lost so long ago.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 29
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> model felix/bartender sylvain au i was yelling abt on twitter ! i wanna preface this by saying i know nothing abt modeling OR bartending and i DO NOT intend on doing any research . also i havent written anything since i was like 16 so this might be cringe . this is just smth i wanna do for fun bc sometimes u gotta make ur own food !
> 
> but yea felix is gay trans and autistic !

For his whole life, Felix had made it a point to prepare for the worst. Up to this point, it had served him well. In his career, in his personal life, in his transition, and even in his sparse, dry romantic endeavors, he had expected the worst and either been painfully right or pleasantly surprised. But nothing about his carefully calculated and tactical way of living could prepare him for the whirlwind of a man he never knew he lost so long ago.

Felix pushed the door open to Arianrhod and tugged the strings of his hoodie tighter to conceal his face a little more. Being a model had its perks or whatever, but getting recognized at a sleazy bar would not play in his favor. He just wanted a drink or two, and in his opinion, that was nothing worth reporting to the general public. Although,  _ People Magazine  _ would beg to differ. 

The air of the bar was warmer, thicker than that of the outside, but it wasn't so suffocating that the smell of booze and cigarette smoke would linger on him the next day like his hangover certainly would. A calm night, it seemed. There weren't many people occupying the space, and the few that did seemed too immersed in their drinks or their dates or their own self pity to notice Felix's presence. He deemed it safe enough to pull down his hood and hop onto a barstool.

"I'll be with you in a second!" a carefree voice called from a mess of red hair.

Felix leaned his elbow on the bar and rested his head in his hand. The man finished wiping down the counter and tossed the dirty rag in what Felix could only assume was the direction of the sink. It fell about a foot short and flopped to the floor.

"What can I get for you?" he said with a tilt of his head and a warm smile that felt too familiar to be comfortable. He leaned forward on the counter expectantly.

"Um. Lagavulin on the rocks." The eye contact that this guy was trying to hold with him was throwing him off. "Please," he added.

"Sure." He started to turn away but then glanced back at Felix before going to get his drink.

_ Oh God,  _ Felix thought.  _ He's definitely recognized me.  _ He prepared himself for the obligatory, "Sure, you can take a picture with me," and the, "Yes, I can sign something for you, but please don't make it weird," that he was hoping to avoid tonight.

A glass of whisky slid across the bar in his direction. "Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" the man asked. 

Felix sighed. "Well, do you look at magazines? Or TV? Or ads?" 

His eyes lit up in such a charming, homey way, that Felix wanted to actually continue this interaction for longer than a minute, if he hadn't nearly shouted, that is. "Oh! You're that model guy!"

"SHHHHH! Keep your voice down!" Felix surveyed the room for anyone looking at them. No one batted an eye. "Yeah. That's me." Felix studied his face for a moment. Something about the sharp corners of his jaw and his prominent nose and the warmth in his eyes brought about a strange sense of easiness and comfort that Felix couldn't quite place. He knew that face.

Or maybe he was just gay, and it was just late, and he needed to go to bed. Either way, he felt like he needed to stick around to figure it out. Nothing could go unanalyzed in his life, it seemed, especially hot, tall, redheaded men. Yes, it was possible that he had met this man before, but he knew that with his career, a repeat appearance in his day to day life wasn't unheard of. And even then, he was never good at remembering faces. 

"You're name's Felix, right? No last name? They always just call you Felix in all your. . ." He gestured vaguely. "Stuff."

Felix nodded and sipped his drink. "No one needs to know my last name. It's dumb, anyways." He never liked his last name.  _ Fraldarius.  _ It made him sound like some dumb RPG character. No one would  _ ever _ take him seriously if they knew his last name was  _ Fraldarius _ . Time to change the subject. "What's your name?" 

"Sylvain." He smiled again, and Felix noticed the freckles that dusted his cheeks and the dimples that formed in his skin. And how tight his black T-shirt was. And how tight his jeans were. And how  _ good  _ he looked in that tight shirt and those tight jeans. 

Felix found himself chewing on his straw and had to push the glass away from himself to stop. "I knew a Sylvain, once."

"Oh yeah? Well, my last name's Gautier, if that rings a bell."

That definitely rang a bell. A few, actually. Sylvain Gautier was the name of his best friend from his childhood. The same best friend that he had followed around everywhere he went, the best friend that he counted on, the best friend that he was undoubtedly (and blindly) in love with for years until he graduated before Felix and moved away. And now he was here, right in front of him, close enough to touch. His familiar face, his sweet smile, his soft eyes; they had grown and changed since high school, but much to his dismay, they still made his heart melt.

Felix swallowed. “It doesn’t.” His voice was a bit too high pitched there for his liking, his classic tell-all for a lie. If human interaction was a poker game, he would lose every time. He couldn’t have Sylvain connecting his current existence to the one he lived in high school. That was a completely different person with a different name and a different, weaker sense of self. He had worked too hard to distance himself from who he was to allow it to influence how others saw him now.

Felix noticed a group of peppy, loud, young women sit down on the other side of the bar. Sylvain seemed to notice them too.

“Oh, well, um. . .” Sylvain pulled a small notebook out of the back of his waistband and flipped to a clean page. The pages were frayed and bent from use and covered in sketches of people Felix had never seen before. He pulled out a pen, clicked it, and scrawled down a series of numbers, then tore the page out and handed it to him. “You should call me sometime. You seem really cute. That is, if you’d ever wanna be seen with some dumb bartender.” He winked in a way that only Sylvain could, a way that Felix remembered all too well. “See you around.” With that, he sauntered over to the group of women and started chatting them up.

Felix stared at the scrap of paper in his hands, feeling his face heat up.  _ Cute?  _ He thought. He felt the jagged, torn edge with his finger and folded it up to stick in his pocket without a second thought. This wasn’t the first time he had been hit on by a random stranger. Granted, Sylvain wasn’t exactly a stranger. He watched as he flirted and bantered with the women, making them laugh and smile. Maybe this was something he did with all his customers; maybe he wasn't special. He certainly hadn’t changed in the six years since they’d seen each other, still as flirty and charming as ever. He couldn't help but wonder, though, what would happen if he  _ did  _ call him later. Would Sylvain still be into him, or would his interest wane like it always seemed to do with the girls Felix watched him date in high school? There was only one way to find out, and the thought of it made his heart feel like it was beating out of his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sylvain u r so dumb!!! disaster bisexual!
> 
> also this chapter is kind of short! im trying not to stress abt chapter length im just gonna end them where it feels right

Sylvain had been staring at his silent phone for what had to be at least a few hours. Stupid, really, because at four in the morning, everyone's either asleep or too drunk to have a conversation. He had given his number out only once that night, and for some reason, this time felt different. It felt important. Sylvain was never one to believe in "fate" or whatever, but he found himself inexplicably drawn to the man he met just three hours prior.

Maybe it was because Felix was famous. Yeah, that was probably it. He probably just wanted to fuck him because he was a hot model, and that's it. That sounded right. No weird, repressed emotions happening here!

Or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself as he stared blankly at his phone, waiting for it to ring or chime or vibrate or  _ something.  _ Please, God, just make it do  _ something,  _ so he could settle his mind for even a minute.

This was so dumb. Why was he so hung up on this? Was it something about him? His mannerisms seemed familiar. There was some aspect of him that made Sylvain want to hold and kiss him, a feeling that he had felt before but wasn't sure when. A feeling that he didn't often feel, especially for a stranger.  _ A stranger.  _ He didn't feel like a stranger; in fact, it somehow felt like Felix already knew all of him, like his piercing gaze could see right through his laid back facade.

His train of thought was interrupted by a  _ bzzzzt bzzzzt  _ from his phone. He practically dove for it in anticipation, nearly falling off his bed.

**Unknown number:** hey

**Unknown number:** its felix

**Unknown number:** from the bar earlier

Sylvain scrambled to add his number as a contact. From there, he didn't know what to do. Usually, he would play it cool. Usually, he knew exactly what to say. Usually, he knew what he was doing. 

But nothing about Felix felt usual. Not the way he made him feel, at least.

Sylvain eventually settled for something basic, a classic.

**Sylvain:** hey

That wasn't enough. He needed to add something else.

**Sylvain:** whats up

Perfect. Well, as perfect as it would get. A minute passed by, and with every second Sylvain's chest tightened a little more. Why was he like this?

**Felix:** laying in bed

Sylvain waited for a second message, one that would ask what he was up to. To be fair, he was doing quite literally nothing at the moment, but it's just common courtesy to ask. Something told him that Felix was a particularly dry texter.

**Sylvain:** me too lol

**Felix:** cool

**Felix:** hey do you want to hang out sometime. i'm free thursday night but that's it

He stared at his phone for what felt like a solid minute before responding.

**Sylvain:** ye sure! how abt 7

**Felix:** ok let's meet here

Attached to the text was a screenshot of Google Maps listing what seemed like a small, local restaurant. In all honesty, it looked a little sketchy, but Sylvain didn't blame Felix for wanting to meet somewhere discreet, given his fame and all.

**Sylvain:** ok sounds good! ;)

So it was settled. Sylvain was going to meet up with a sexy model he met at his place of work. And they were going to go on a date. And maybe he should not have ended that text with a winky face. Oh God, what has he done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im on twitter @studiobreck !


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this episode on blue anime man is cringe:

It was Thursday at 6:37 PM when Felix started having second thoughts. Why did he do this? Why did he invite his first, long lost love out to dinner? And why did he _accept?_ Was this even a date? What did that winky face mean? Was he interested in him, like, sexually? Romantically? Did he only want to go out because he was a model? These questions would not stop swimming around in his head, and it was driving him insane. Absolutely insane.

And he hadn't even gotten ready yet. What was he even supposed to wear? What kind of outfit do you wear to an almost-kind-of date with your old best friend who doesn't actually know who you are? Jeans, maybe? He stared into his closet like there was nothing in it for 3 minutes before pulling out his phone.

“Hello?” A familiar voice answered when he dialed.

“Hilda. I have a. . . thing, and I don’t know what to wear.” He hated asking for help. He hated it like he hated sweets and levity and his father. Maybe he could swallow his pride just this once, though. “I need. . . your help.”

“Aren’t you a model? Don’t they teach you this shit in model school or whatever?”

“Will you just help me?” He sighed. “Please.”

“Okay, what is this ‘thing’ you’re talking about?”

“I don’t know. It might be a date -”

“A DATE?” Hilda yelled so loud that Felix had to pull his phone away from his ear.

“I said _maybe._ ” Felix started idly flipping through his overstuffed closet. “It also might not be. But I don’t know. He said I was cute and gave me his number.” A particular blue turtleneck caught his eye. “Oh, also, it’s Sylvain.”   
  


“ _Sylvain?_ Like, _the_ Sylvain? How did you find him? Oh, Felix, it must be fate!”

Felix rolled his eyes as if Hilda could see him. “It’s not _fate,_ Hilda. He just works at a bar that I went to.”

“Which one?”

“The one on Crenshaw with the giant sign.” They were getting off topic, he realized. “Focus, Hilda! I have to be there in twenty minutes!” Being late was one of Felix’s pet peeves, and he wouldn’t be caught dead showing up behind schedule for a date. Or whatever this was.

“Okay, okay. What are you looking at now?”  
  


“That navy turtleneck.”

“Ooooh that one’s cute!”  
  


“Yeah, well, the problem with that is that I’d have to wear a binder with it. It’s too tight to get away with a sports bra.” He put his phone on speaker and tugged the shirt off the hanger.

“I’m sure he won’t mind. That guy was always a tits man, anyway.”

“Hilda, seriously!” She was probably right. Felix never had any problem with his breasts, personally, and the general public knew he was trans. Even still, he was always worried that if he made a public appearance without binding or wearing something loose, people’s image of him would change. Yes, he knew that having breasts didn’t make him less of a man, but he couldn’t trust others, especially strangers, to know the same.

“Well, then, wear a binder. Is it really that bad?”

A pause from Felix. “I guess not.” He tugged his T-shirt and sports bra off and threw them on the floor to deal with later.

“Wear jeans with that. And also those thigh high boots. But wear a loose jacket, so you don’t look like a slut.” She paused for a moment. “Unless you want to.”

“Why would I ever want that.” It was a statement more than a question.

“If you want to fuck him, then that’ll send the right message. Since you hate admitting you like people.”

With another roll of his eyes, felix picked up his phone. “Thanks for the help. Bye.” He hung up, knowing that Hilda knew he appreciated it.

Cupping his breasts in his hands, he looked at the mirror. _Sylvain’s a tits man, huh,_ he thought. He considered just wearing a sports bra for a minute, but decided against it. The cons seemed to outweigh the pros. With a sigh, he squeezed his chest into a binder and changed the rest of his clothes. Ten minutes to go, and a fifteen minute drive to the restaurant. God, he hated being late.

***

Felix pulled up to the restaurant at 7:07, scrambling to get out of his car and into the restaurant. The chilly air of an early February dusk permeated his jacket, making him shiver as he run-walked to the door. Sylvain stood waiting outside, leaning against the brick exterior of the restaurant.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Felix, it’s 7:07. You’re fine!”

They entered the restaurant together and got seated at a table. The place wasn’t so upscale that it would cost an arm and a leg to eat there, but it wasn’t so run down that you needed to worry about getting food poisoning from it. With a 91.0 sanitation rating, it held a certain hometown-y charm that was missing from a lot of the eateries in LA. The wooden tables and chairs had scratches and scuff marks, yes, but the bones were solid. 

Once seated, they had a few minutes to review the menu before the waiter approached their table. "Hello, and welcome to Fhargus. I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you guys started with some drinks?"

“Yeah, I’ll have whatever your cheapest wine is. Thanks,” Felix thought that all wine tasted the same, and if you paid more than nine dollars for it, you were very stupid.

“And I’ll have some Chardonnay please. Thank you,” Sylvain said.

"Our special tonight is the spiced tilapia with coconut rice. The tilapia is caught fresh right here in LA, and -”

Felix closed his menu abruptly and held it out to the waiter. "Sounds disgusting. Do you have chicken fingers?" No shame in this man.

Sylvain snorted.

"Um, yes, but it's a kid's meal." The waiter took the menu out his hand, visibly judging him.

"That's fine. I'll take that." He didn't need to gorge himself on his first date (or at least, date-adjacent meet up) with Sylvain anyway. "Thanks."

Sylvain tried to stifle a laugh. "I'll have that tilapia thing with the mango rice."

"Coconut rice," the waiter corrected, clearly done with their shit.

"Sure." Sylvain's efforts were failing, and he was definitely laughing at Felix. 

The waiter left their table with the menus as Sylvain very obviously tried not to lose it.

"What are you laughing at?" Felix said, little more accusatory than intended. He could feel himself blushing.

"Nothing, it's just. . ." Sylvain calmed himself down. "You remind me of someone I used to know. Like, the way you speak and act seems really similar. I just think it's funny and cute that a successful male model eats from the kids menu."

Felix stared at his lap, hoping that he couldn't see him blushing. "I'm a picky eater. Shut up." He fiddled with the straw of his water. "Someone you used to know, huh. What. . . What were they like?" He knew he was digging his grave deeper, backing himself up into a corner with his lie. But he couldn't help wanting to know Sylvain's unbridled opinion of him. He could never guess others' perceptions of him, and this was his chance to hear possibly the most important one in his life.

“They were my best friend for a while. Like, most of our childhoods I’d say. I feel bad because we lost touch after I moved away for college, but then I moved back and never said anything.”  
  
“You _what?_ ” Felix felt some sort of anger-like feeling boiling in his chest. How could he not say anything?

“I moved back because I dropped out. I felt weird, like, contacting them out of the blue after a year of not talking. I didn’t know if they still wanted to be friends, even, because they were pretty upset when I left.”

It was true that Felix was upset when he left, but he would have given anything to be friends with Sylvain again. “I would ha - I’m sure they would have wanted you to call them when you came back.”  
  
Sylvain gave a seemingly indifferent shrug, but his eyes showed something deeper. “Well, that was like, seven years ago. I’m sure they’ve forgotten about me now.” He laughed weakly. “I’m not that memorable anyway.”

Felix wanted to tell him so badly in that moment, tell him that he was the lost friend he was looking for, tell him that he didn’t forget him. That he _was_ a memorable person. That he had value. But he couldn’t risk it yet.

Obviously uncomfortable with the downer he ended their conversation on, Sylvain changed the subject. “So, what’s being a model like?”

“It's a mixed bag, and honestly, I wouldn’t be doing it if it didn’t pay well. I don’t really find it fun anymore, but I feel like I have this obligation to be successful in this field because there aren’t _that_ many trans models.”

Sylvain was silent for a moment, seemingly trying to find the right thing to say to that bummer of a conversation starter. “Well, if you weren’t a professional model, what would you want to be doing?”

Felix had to think for a moment. No one had ever asked him that before; everyone had always gone with his childhood model dream. No one ever asked him if he was happy where he was; they had always just assumed. “I. . . I don’t know. I’ve never thought of that before.”

“You have to have some sort of hobby. What do you like to do when you’re not working?”

“I. . .” Would it be appropriate to start infodumping about swords here? He worried that if he started talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. “I, um, I really like swords. I like collecting them. And looking at them. And reading about them.”  
  
“Swords, huh.”

Uh oh. Looks like Sylvain was starting to connect the dots. “Enough about that. What do you like to do?”

“I like to draw sometimes. Mostly people. It’s actually kind of a new thing for me. I only started, what, five-ish years ago, maybe? After I dropped out of college.”

“Oh, so that was what that notebook you have is for.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain looked away with a slight blush on his cheeks. “None of them are that good, though. My best stuff usually happens when I can sit down with a figure drawing model and draw. Doesn’t happen that often, though. I can only go to those workshops when I can afford it. Although. . .” He cocked his head as he looked at Felix. “Nevermind.”

“What?”

“No, nevermind. It’s nothing.”

“No, I wanna know.”

“I was gonna say,” he looked away again, embarrassed, “if you wanted to, like, but only if you really want to, maybe you could, um.” He had Felix’s full attention. “Maybe you could model for me? I could pay you, of course. Oh, and you can keep your clothes on too. But you don’t _have_ to. You know, if you feel like, um, yeah.”

The smooth and confident Sylvain that he once knew disappeared once the topic of naked Felix came up, apparently. That boded well.

Maybe it was the wine talking, but the thought of Sylvain looking at him naked was feeling particularly sexy at the moment. “Yeah, we could do that sometime.”

“Really? How much would you want for that?”

“You don’t need to pay me. I’ll do it for free.”

The waiter approached their table with their food not a minute too soon. Felix dove into his chicken tenders, and Sylvain looked at his Tilapia hesitantly before taking a cautious bite.

“Mm. I don’t like this,” he said.

“It sounded gross, so I don’t know why you got it.”

“Can I - Can I have some of your food?”

Felix stopped mid bite. “Ooh wambt summa my foob?”

“Is that okay?”

He swallowed his chewed up chicken tender. “Um.” He usually hated sharing his food, but maybe he could make an exception just this once. It was Sylvain, afterall. “Sure.” 

Sylvain held out his plate, and Felix dropped a couple chicken tenders and a few fries on it. He giggled adorably. “Thanks.”

Something about the image of this large, buff man eating chicken tenders and fries was so funny to Felix that a laugh escaped.

Sylvain smiled. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile like that.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t smile that often.”

They laughed together, and Felix felt a genuine connection like he’d never felt before.

The check came promptly after they finished eating, and Felix grabbed it and started shuffling through his bag without a second thought. He would not let Sylvain pay for this meal, especially since he worked as a bartender.

"Oh, let me get that," Sylvain offered.

Felix slipped his credit card into the check and snapped it shut, setting it on the table. "Let you get that? Absolutely not." 

"Here, Felix, it's fine!" Sylvain reached for the check, and Felix practically saw it happening in slow motion.

"Wait -" If Sylvain picked up the check and saw his credit card, he would see his last name. If he saw his last name, he would know who he was. If he knew who he was, Felix worried, he would see him differently. Differently how? He wasn't exactly sure, but he was positive that it would impact their relationship. Somehow.

Sylvain furrowed his brow when he saw the credit card. He looked up at Felix, then back again. Then at Felix, then back again. If Felix wasn't in the height of a crisis right now, he'd think it was cute.

"Felix. . . Wait. You're - wait, no. Wait. Felix. . . You . . ." His voice trailed off, and he looked like a kicked puppy.

Never in his life did Felix find himself praying to a higher power, but in that moment he prayed to any diety that might hear him for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im on twitter @studiobreck !


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!!! look at that! i actually posted a chapter! sorry for the 5 month writing hiatus I'm more active with art on my twitter

"Sylvain, listen." Felix took a deep, shaky breath and tried to ground himself by planting his hands on the table. "Yes, we know each other. I. . ." He stalled, trying to gather his thoughts before he said something that could very well ruin their relationship if not approached gently. Avoiding eye contact at all costs, he continued. "I didn't want you to. . . I'm not trying to. . . I want - I want you to see me as a man. Okay, I didn't want you to see me and see that sad little teenage girl. I know, I should have told you. I just -" He didn't know where this was going. This was bad. Very bad. “Um, I have to go.” 

Without looking at Sylvain, he stood up, bumping his knee against the table and knocking over a glass of water in the process. “Shit!” He tossed a napkin on top of the spill and haphazardly patted it. Snatching his bag from the back of his chair, he walked as fast as he could without causing a scene, not looking back even once.

This was stupid. This was such a dumb, stupid idea, and he should not have even talked to Sylvain in the first place. If there was anything salvageable left in their dormant friendship, it was certainly gone now. Sylvain’s sad, heartbroken face would not leave his mind as he pulled his car door open and threw his bag aggressively into the passenger seat.

“Felix, wait!”

Halfway into the car, Felix peeked over the door to see Sylvain running after him. Maybe it wasn’t over.

“Felix. Felix, you left your credit card on the table.” Catching his breath as he arrived, he held out the card.

Felix’s heart felt like it dropped to the cracked asphalt underneath them. “Oh,” he said, trying not to let his obvious disappointment show. “Thanks.” He grabbed it and shoved it into his pocket and let the awkward silence linger. What do you even say in this situation?

"Felix, listen. Come 'ere." 

Despite what might be considered better judgment, Felix stepped out from behind the car door and shut it gently behind him. "What." 

"I don't know what - I - I -" Sylvain reached for Felix's hand as he searched for words. If he knew who Felix was, then he must remember his policy on touching. This must have been serious. "I don't see you differently now. I can see you're happier now. I feel like - I mean, I'm kind of hurt that you didn't tell me sooner, but who am I to talk." He laughed weakly, in a way that was supposed to lighten the mood but did nothing but add more weight to his words. "I mean, I came back and didn't say a word, so. Yeah. Um, I just, I don't want to let you go again."

Felix's blank stare betrayed absolutely none of his mixing emotions.

"You know, but actually," he backtracked as he let go of Felix's hand, letting it flop to his side. "If you don't - if you don't wanna go anywhere, like, I get it. It's not a big deal. We can just," he scratched the back of his neck, "like, pretend this never happened. Yeah, that's actually -"

"No."

"What?”

"No, I -" Felix cringed at what he was about to say. It was going to sound like some dumb romance movie, and he knew that. But what else was there to say? "I don't wanna lose you either," he said, barely above a whisper.

Felix swore that Sylvain could hear his heart beating out of his chest when he leaned in and kissed him, Sylvain's chest pressing him against the car. Hesitantly, nervously, Felix brought his shaking hands to Sylvain's waist, and Sylvain's found their way to his face. He hadn't been kissed like this before, with such longing and meaning behind it. Felix let his hands slide to Sylvain's back in an effort to pull him closer as Sylvain ran his fingers through his hair, so soft and gentle and careful that Felix could tell he was nervous too. The cold was no match for how warm Sylvain’s embrace felt. Everything about this felt right, from Sylvain’s tender touch to the way Felix’s knees felt like they were about to buckle and how he trusted Sylvain to catch him if he fell.

Sylvain pressed his tongue lightly to Felix’s lips, silently asking if it was okay to take things a little further. Felix obliged and let out a quiet hum, something he saw as embarrassing and involuntary but what Sylvain obviously saw as an invitation to pull him closer. They quickly fell into a rhythm that felt easy and right to Felix, in a way that was way too natural to mean nothing but too hot and heavy to just lead nowhere. But they couldn’t just fuck in the middle of a parking lot.

Felix broke away from their kiss. “I should, um. I should go. I need to get back home. I have. . . fish. . . To feed.” Felix didn’t own any fish. “Text me, though,” he said with the gentlest smile he could muster. “Okay?”

Sylvain smiled back at him in a way that seemed like he understood. “Yeah,” he kissed him once gently, “I will.”

In his car, Felix sat still for a minute. That just happened. He kissed Sylvain. No, Sylvain kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday morning was a terrible time to be woken up. Nevertheless, Felix awoke to someone banging on his apartment door steadily. Like an alarm clock, but much more annoying. You can’t snooze a person.

“Go away!” Felix yelled.

The knocking continued. “Felix! It’s me! Open the door right now!” 

Lysithea. Maybe if he ignored her, she would go away. More knocking confirmed that she would not go away. “Felix, this is important!”

He dragged himself out of bed and put a T-shirt on. She could see him in his underwear if it meant that he wouldn’t have to put on pants. He trudged to the door and opened it. “What do you want? It's like six in the morning.”

“What the  _ fuck _ is this, Felix?” She threw a wrinkled copy of a local magazine at him, probably expecting him to catch it. 

Felix let it hit his boob and flop to the floor. He was not in the mood for a game of catch. “That’s a magazine.”

“ _ Look at it. _ ”

Felix bent down and picked it up, holding it close to his face so he could see it without his contacts. On the cover of this magazine, called  _ Wyvern Beat,  _ was a fuzzy picture of him and Sylvain making out, and the words “ _ FELIX’S NEW BOY TOY?! _ ,” spelled out in an alarmingly bright shade of red.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Although she was a few inches shorter and a few years younger than him, Lysithea never failed to have a serious and sometimes even intimidating aura about her. She always dressed sharply no matter the occasion, and despite how she routinely bleached the shit out of her hair, it never took on the fried appearance that Felix had seen countless times on others.

“How did they print this so fast? This was not even two days ago.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you went on a date, and you weren’t careful enough, and now the public is going to roast you and your little “boy toy” over it for weeks.”

“Sylvain. His name is Sylvain”

“Whatever. I’m coming in. We need to have a  _ serious _ talk about your career. And put on some pants; this isn’t a slumber party.” She pushed past him and stood in the living room while Felix put on some dirty sweatpants from the hamper.

“Why do we have to do this now?” Felix asked as he plopped down on the couch.

“You need to be more careful with shit like this. I know you value your privacy, and I know you don’t want the press involved in this little fling of yours.”

Fling? Was this a fling? Felix hoped not.

“You know how people are,” she continued and began to pace around the room like she was giving a lecture. “You know that people would rather focus on the stupid details of your personal life rather than your actual career, which is what’s important here.”

“I know, I know.” Felix  _ did  _ know. And usually, he was more cautious about things like this. But something about Sylvain made him feel like a normal person with a normal job. In a good way. Being with him made him forget about fame.

“Promise me you’ll be more careful.”

“Fine.”

“ _ Promise  _ me.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I promise.”

“Good. Now go back to sleep. You look terribly hungover.” With that, she left the apartment and slammed the door.

Felix was not hungover. He just looked that way because he hadn’t slept well. All night he’d been thinking about Sylvain. Why hadn’t he texted him yet? Did Felix scare him off? Did he come on too strong? If Sylvain felt that way, he wouldn’t have kissed him, right? Then why hadn’t he said anything yet? Was Felix supposed to text him first? He  _ did  _ ask Sylvain to text him, so the ball was in his court. Why, Sylvain?

He stripped off his shirt and pants and laid down on the couch, too lazy and distraught to go back to his room. Now he had two things to worry about - Sylvain not texting him,  _ and  _ the press possibly getting in the way of their very new relationship. Curious as to what they had to say, he reached for the tabloid that he put on the coffee table earlier. He tried not to think about how much money this magazine was going to make off this image of him and Sylvain while staring at it intently. All he could think about was how soft Sylvain’s lips were, and how warm he felt pressed up against him, and how much he longed to feel that again. The ghosts of Sylvain’s hands and lips would not stop haunting him. 

Knowing he had it bad, he tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table and laid on his side, pretending that the cool leather of the couch that touched his back was Sylvain’s skin instead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chaotically adds another chapter in the same day)

It wasn’t until 3:38 PM that Saturday that Sylvain texted him.

**Sylvain:** hey felix :) sorry i havent texted u until now i was busy

Felix stared at the message, unsure how to reply.

**Sylvain:** i would love to go on another date tho! we can go anywhere u want i dont care

Okay, this was a good sign; Sylvain was clearly still into him. He had to play it cool, though. He had never gone on a second date before. Because of Lysithea’s berating from earlier, he knew he had to be much more careful as to where he went with him, meaning that anywhere public was out of the question, at least for now. Going to Sylvain’s house was also out of the question because he worried that if he got discovered, Sylvain would be caught in the crossfire. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm him. He hoped that he wasn’t a subscriber of _Wyvern Beat._ That only left one place.

**Felix:** you can come over to my apartment. 

Felix didn’t know why this made him so nervous; when they were young, they went to each other’s houses all the time. _This should feel no different,_ he told himself in an effort to calm down. He knew this would be different.

**Sylvain:** sounds good! when would work? I work nights tuesday to saturday next week

Did Sylvain take Thursday off to go on a date with him? Maybe he was thinking about this too hard. 

**Felix:** what about monday at like 6

Felix had a vague recollection of scheduling something for Monday night, but he could reschedule that. He did _not_ want to wait a week to see Sylvain again.

**Sylvain:** ya that works!

 **Sylvain:** what r u up to rn??

Oh, God. Small talk. Felix’s least favorite kind of talk.

**Felix:** nothing wbu

 **Sylvain:** me too. Im soooo bored and ur sooo cute

 **Felix:** why

 **Sylvain:** wym why?

 **Felix:** why did you say that

 **Sylvain:** bc i think ur cute!

This was a lot to unpack. Sylvain had gone from being his best friend to a seemingly unrequited crush to a lost memory. And now, he suddenly reappeared, but this time as a romantic interest that was flirting with him? It felt weird. It felt like Sylvain was ignoring their past together, other than acknowledging it once on their first date. It was almost too much. Felix had buried these feelings in a bitter grave long ago when Sylvain left him, and Sylvain dug them all up without taking a second to let Felix adjust.

**Felix:** why do you like me all of a sudden

That sounded a bit more accusatory than intended. Felix stared at his phone waiting for a response to no avail. Was that wrong to say? He wasn’t trying to be a bitch; he genuinely wanted to know why Sylvain was suddenly so interested in him. It’s not like he showed any interest when they were kids. What changed?

***

The next time Felix received a text from Sylvain was Monday morning at a photoshoot he was doing for a magazine. He had just been given a five minute break to “collect himself” because he was “acting weird.” 

**Sylvain:** hey felix! i forgot to get ur address for tonight :) do u mind sending it to me when u get the chance

 **Felix:** ya sure

He sent his address just as he was called back to continue the shoot. At least he hadn’t fucked up their relationship with his weird texting habits. It was slightly comforting to know that, because they were friends as teenagers, Sylvain was familiar with Felix’s lack of texting nuance. That didn’t mean he was immune to sending a bad text, however. Nothing could save you then except for face-to-face confrontation, which Felix also happened to be bad at.

Despite the confirmation that they were going to see each other again and the nervous excitement Felix felt at that sentiment, he still clearly could not pull himself together if the photographer’s critiques were anything to go by. Lysithea pulled him to the side on his next break. “What is up with you? You look so stiff up there.”

“Gee, thanks.” Felix crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is something on your mind?”

Yes. “No, nothings bothering me. I’m just having an off day, I guess.”

“Well, this client is important, Felix. Get a hold of yourself.”

“Alright, fine, whatever.” He began to rummage through his stuff to see if Sylvain had texted him again.

“Also,” Lysithea said, “you have that party thing tonight, so don’t forget about it.”

Felix stopped dead in his tracks. “What party.” 

“That one the editor for _Almyra Magazine_ is throwing. You need to be there. It’ll be good PR.”

_That’s_ what he had scheduled for Monday night. “Unfortunately, I will not be going.”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not. Don’t you think its a good idea for me to lie low after that makeout picture thing? I am positive _someone’s_ going to ask me about it. Do you remember last time I was put on the spot at a fancy party?”

Lysithea sighed. “You burped and then threw up on the reporter.”

“I burped and then threw up on the reporter,” Felix confirmed. “People talked about that for weeks. It was humiliating.”

“You have a point, I guess,” Lysithea said, resigning. “I’ll find some excuse for you to not be there. But you _better_ not be seen in public tonight because my excuse will most likely rely on you being ‘sick.’”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

***

The rest of the shoot passed by in a nervous blur. They must have gotten at least a few good pictures because they eventually let him leave. That, or they just got tired of dealing with him. In all honesty, the only thing Felix cared about at that moment was his date with Sylvain. And much like his previous date with him, he did not have the slightest idea of what to wear.

He wasn't going to make a public appearance this time, so it could be a bit more relaxed. But how much more relaxed? It was a date, after all. Should he bind? Should he wear a bra? Should he do neither? Would that be sexy? Would that be appropriate? What kind of shirt should he wear? Were you supposed to wear shoes to a date at your own apartment? Would it be weird if he didn't? Should he wear cute underwear? Were things going to get that far? Wait, does that mean he should wear a cute bra too? He only had one, so would that be like laying all his cards out on the table too soon? What does that mean, anyway?

These questions floated endlessly in his head as he stared blankly at his closet. Time for some almost professional advice.

“Hello? Felix?” Hilda answered.

“So I have another date,” Felix said, “and this time it’s at my apartment.”

“Ooooooo is it Sylvain? Why is it at your apartment?” Hilda gasped in a stupid, mocking way. “Are you gonna fuck? Is that it?”

“We are not - I don’t kn - that’s beside the point! I need you to help me pick out an outfit. What do I wear to this kind of thing?”

“That depends. Is it a casual thing? Like are you just gonna sit on the couch and watch TV? Or is it a more formal occasion with like, a fancy dinner or something? It really just depends on what you’re going to be doing. What are your plans?”

Felix had to stop and think for a second. He had no “plans.” He thought that the only planning necessary was to have Sylvain come over. He didn’t know he was supposed to have activities planned. “I. . . I don’t have any.”

“Well, if you don’t have any specific plans, I’d just assume it’s casual. I would go with some tight jeans and a T-shirt, but not a shitty one. Like, a nice T-shirt. Like, one you buy at a designer store that’s made of like, silk or something.”

“Those don’t exist.” Felix put his phone on speaker and set it on a shelf in his closet, picking out a pair of jeans.

“No, not literally a silk T-shirt. Like, a nice one. Just wear a nice one. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I do think that if you’re gonna wear a T-shirt, you need to class it up a little bit. Do you have a subtle necklace or something? Like, one of those that’s just a gold chain and has a tiny star or something on it.”

“I don’t own any necklaces,” Felix said as he shuffled through his T-shirts.

“Really? Okay, well then scratch the T-shirt idea. Do you have any button-up shirts? Preferably one with a pattern on it.”

“All of the ones I own are plain black.” Felix abandoned the T-shirts and started searching through his button-ups.

“Wow, for a rich model you really are boring.”

“I prefer the term frugal,” he checked the time on his phone, “but hurry up. I only have ten minutes left.”

“Okay, okay. Wear one of your boring ass black shirts and just leave some buttons undone. Do you have a push-up bra?”

Felix swore that he could hear the ;) in her voice. “One. But no to whatever you’re thinking.” 

“Well, then wear a sports bra that’s cut low enough that he can’t see the hem when you unbutton the top few buttons.”

“All of my sports bras are identical.”

Hilda let out a huff. “God, you’re so difficult. Fine. Wear one of those. But make your hair look nice.”

Felix began the process of buttoning up his shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone. He rolled up his sleeves and tucked the front tail into his jeans. “Do I have to wear shoes? Would that be weird if I didn’t wear shoes?”

“Do your feet stink?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” Hilda paused for a moment. “Wear shoes when you go to greet him, and if you end up somewhere like the couch or your bed take them off. But keep your socks on. Unless he likes feet. Do you think Sylvain likes feet?”

Felix would worry about being a bother for talking to her this long, but he knew Hilda lived for telling people how to dress and shoving herself into their romantic lives. “I’ll just keep the socks on, thanks.”

“Is that all? Do you want any hot tips? I can give you hot tips.”

Felix did not know what “hot tips” were, and he did not want to find out. “No, that's fine. Thanks. Bye.” He hung up just as the doorbell rang. Fixing his hair in a quick ponytail and tugging on his shoes, he rushed towards the door. Oh, God. He should have prepared more.


	7. Chapter 7

“Felix!” Sylvain greeted him as soon as he opened the door. “Thanks for having me over. Here,” he held out a small bouquet of blue roses, “these are for you. And they’re your favorite color!” That was such a Sylvain thing to do, and he had done it with countless people before him. But this time felt kind of special.

Felix smiled a little and took the flowers from him. “Thanks. These are nice.”

Sylvain wore a brown leather jacket over a nice pink T-shirt with a small gold necklace hanging from his neck. Exactly what Hilda told him to wear. Go figure. His straight jeans were distressed and tucked into his boots, and his hair looked fluffy enough to touch. “You look amazing,” he said.

“Thanks, so do you.” They stood there in an awkward silence for a moment. “Come in,” Felix said as he stepped aside to let Sylvain walk past him. He shut the door behind him and showed Sylvain the living room. 

Looking at it now, he probably should have done something to spruce the place up a little bit. While relatively tidy, his apartment was sparsely decorated and overall kind of bland. He never understood the lengths that people took to make their living spaces as lavish and complicated as possible. A place to live was just a place to live. It didn’t have to be special. That didn’t stop him from feeling judged the second Sylvain walked in, though.

“Did you have anything planned?” Sylvain asked.

“Nope.”

“Do you want me to order dinner?”

“No, I’ll do that. What do you want?”

“Anything is fine with me.”

The air around them felt tense. And awkward. And weird. Felix ordered delivery through his phone, specifying in the app that he wanted the delivery person to knock and leave the food at the door. “Do you want to sit on the couch?” he asked. He didn’t know what to do in this situation so he just awkwardly ushered Sylvain to sit down.

How far away was he supposed to sit? If he sat too close would that weird him out? If he sat too far away would that offend him? 

Sylvain must have noticed Felix staring because he patted the couch cushion next to him. “I won’t bite,” he said with a wink.

Felix sat down next to him, his back uncomfortably straight.

“Felix, are you okay? You seem tense.” Sylvain put a hand on his shoulder. His hand felt warm, even through the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah, I just. . . I’ve never had a date over at my apartment before. I don’t really have people over that often, so I don’t really know how to be a good host. What do hosts even do? Was I supposed to have a meal already prepared? Or activities planned?”

Sylvain’s touch slid down to Felix’s hand. He squeezed it. “Felix, you don’t have to have anything fancy planned. I just want to hang out with you. We can do whatever you want. We can talk or just be in the same room. I remember how you used to like that.”

Felix smiled and looked down at their hands that were now intertwined, happy that Sylvain had remembered that small detail about him. “Okay. Can we watch a movie?” Movies were always a good option on the rare occasion that he had company over because there was no requirement to come up with something to say.

“Sure.”

Felix picked up the remote and turned on the TV, bringing the on-demand screen up.

“Ooo! Megamind! Let’s watch that!”

Felix laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yes! That’s one of my favorite movies.”

“Megamind it is, then.” Felix selected the movie and leaned back on the couch.

No later than baby Megamind’s solo trip into space, Sylvain yawned and began to slowly stretch his arm behind Felix’s shoulders.

“Are you seriously doing that yawn-arm-around-shoulder-thing?” Felix scoffed.

“What, you don’t like it? That’s the oldest trick in the book.” Sylvain retracted his arm back to his side.

“No, that’s not what I -” Felix cut himself off short and grabbed Sylvain’s arm, slinging it around his shoulders. 

Sylvain’s smile was brighter than the sun. “You’re cute.”

“I am not cute. Take that back,” Felix said as he slowly melted into Sylvain’s side. He kicked his shoes off and drew his legs up onto the couch, bringing his hand up to rest on Sylvain’s firm chest and laying his head down on his shoulder. He took Sylvain’s response of sliding his arm around his waist as a good sign.

It felt good to be held like this, safe in the arms of a man he was too scared to admit he loved. (He wasn’t surprised that his feelings for Sylvain still lingered all these years later.) Sylvain’s steady heartbeat and warm embrace were comforting and grounding. He felt firm but soft at the same time, everything that he thought he would be when he was a teenager.

About a quarter into the movie, their food arrived, and Sylvain offered to go get it. As Sylvain left the couch, Felix found himself already missing his touch. No one touched him like that. He didn’t know he wanted it.

Sylvain brought the take out bag to the living room and set it on the coffee table. “I should have known,” he said, laughing a bit. “You got chicken tenders, didn’t you?”

“So? You stole mine last time, so I got you your own.”

“Thank you for dinner. I’ll get it next time.”

Felix smiled at the thought that there would be a next time. They dug into their chicken tenders and fries and continued to watch the movie.

“Hey, Felix,” Sylvain said in between bites of a french fry, “What did you mean when you said ‘why do you like me all of a sudden?’”

Felix stuffed his mouth full so he could have time to come up with a response. He didn’t know how to put this in the right way, in a way that wouldn’t hurt Sylvain or lead him in the wrong direction. This was the longest chewing of a chicken tender ever, probably. “I meant that. Why do you like me now?” he said after finally swallowing his mouthful.

“I’ve always liked you, Felix. We were best friends.”

“No, I mean -” He took another bite to stall some more. “Why do you like me?  _ Like  _ like me?” He felt like a middle schooler saying that, but there was no other way to put it (that he could think of on the spot, at least). “We were best friends since we learned to talk, Sylvain. You never showed any romantic interest in me in the 18 years I knew you, and now you can’t get enough of me. It’s confusing. I don’t know if you actually care about having a relationship with me, or if you just want to fuck and then never talk again.”

“Felix -”

“I just don’t see how you could make that drastic of a change so quickly. I know you didn’t know it was me when we first went on a date, but once you learned about who I am, you didn’t run for the hills like I thought you would. I just don’t get why you’re still here.” He didn’t mean to talk for that long. It all just came out. Was it succinct? Maybe. Did it make sense? Possibly. Would it have irreparable consequences? Judging by the silence, Felix assumed yes. Great.

Sylvain just stared at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean - “ he began.

“Who said I wasn’t interested in you?”

“What?”

“Who - I never said I wasn’t interested in you.”

“Were you, though?”

Sylvain nodded and stared at his hands.

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think you felt that way about me. You’re hard to read sometimes, you know that?”

Felix thought about the many times when he couldn’t express himself properly. “Maybe.”

“And when I saw you for the first - well not the first time. You know what I mean. I genuinely thought you were attractive. You are attractive. Very hot actually.”

Felix’s face turned red, and he crossed his arms. “You think I’m attractive. Even though you know I was the same snotty-nosed kid you had to look after?”

Sylvain scoffed. “Felix, if you weren’t smoking hot, you would literally not be a model.”

“Shut up,” Felix said with a slight smile. “Also, who says ‘smoking hot?’”

“I think having a history together is good. And I’m not trying to ignore it. And I’m sorry if I come on too strong; it’s just a lot of feelings that came back really, really fast, and the fact that they’re reciprocated made me kind of -”

Felix discarded the chicken tender that he was holding and impulsively dove towards Sylvain, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Sylvain’s body stiffened up with shock but quickly relaxed as he brought his hands to Felix’s waist. Felix pulled Sylvain closer and stroked his hands through his hair; it was just as soft as he remembered. Sylvain seemed to get the message because he opened his mouth and started to kiss him deeper. Felix felt like he was on fire. In a good way. His hands slid from Sylvain’s face down his neck to the collar of his shirt, tugging him forward as Felix leaned back on the couch until he was laying down with Sylvain on top of him.

How far was this going to go? Felix didn’t know. What had gotten into him? Felix didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted Sylvain to be close to him; he wanted Sylvain to hold him and kiss him and never let go. 

Sylvain parted from his mouth and began to kiss his neck, and Felix rested his hands on his back. “Felix,” he breathed as he pulled back. His face was flushed, and his mouth hung slightly open as he started down at him. “Can I take your shirt off?”

Felix’s heart rate started to pick up even more than it had before. He nodded and Sylvain slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. Felix didn’t know what to expect. He knew that Sylvain knew he had breasts. He knew that Sylvain liked breasts. Rationally, there was nothing to worry about. But when Sylvain began to slip his fingers under the elastic band of his bra, he panicked. “Sylvain, wait.”

Sylvain stopped in his tracks. “Is everything okay? Is this not okay?” He slid his fingers out from the elastic and sat up. Felix could see and feel that he was hard. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t wet himself.

“I just - I’m not ready yet. For this. I know we’ve known each other for a while, but this is only our second date and -”

“Say no more. We don’t have to do anything.” Sylvain climbed off of him and helped Felix sit back up.

Felix felt suddenly very naked and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry; I know I was the one who initiated this.”

“Don’t be. Here,” Sylvain said as he helped him get his shirt back on. “It’s fine. It really is. I’m sorry I, uh,” he laughed nervously, “got a little excited.”

“It’s okay.” 

“Not to worry,” Sylvain said. “Megamind will calm me down very fast.” He picked up the remote and pressed play. “Here, wait.” Sylvain picked up their take out boxes. “I’ll reheat these up.” He went over to the kitchen. Good. Felix needed a second to breathe. 

Felix sighed and adjusted his hair, which had gotten messed up while they were making out. He felt so, so stupid. Even though he knew that Sylvain was truly okay with not doing anything sexual, he still felt kind of bad for what he felt like was leading him on. He knew that physically, his body certainly wanted to fuck, but he himself wasn’t ready. And that was fine.

Sylvain returned with their food, and they settled back on the couch and resumed eating. Sylvain smiled. “Oh my God, do you remember when I taught you how to kiss in high school?” he asked.

Felix laughed. “Don’t remind me. Fuck, I was so bad at it.”

“It was cute, though. You know, looking back on how we thought that was just a perfectly normal friend thing makes me laugh a little bit. Like, why would you have enthusiastically accepted my offer if you didn’t like me? I was so dumb.” Sylvain ate a few fries.

“I wouldn’t say  _ enthusiastically _ .”

“Are you kidding? You said yes before I could even finish the sentence!”

“I did not!” Felix swatted at his arm. “You’re remembering that wrong. I was more like, ‘sure, if you want to.’”

“Uh-huh.” Sylvain smirked at him. He did not believe him one bit.

“Well, I feel like the fact that you always wanted to sleep in my bed with me when you were over at my house is more telling.”

“Well, I think the fact that you let me is too.”

They sat there in silence for a few seconds while they ate.

“Hey, um,” Felix said, “you can spend the night here if you want to. You know, like when we were kids.”

Sylvain looked at him with one of the softest smiles he had ever seen. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Felix smiled down at his chicken fingers. “Cool.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up in this chapter felix is briefly referred to as having a coochie and also theres a small boob centric part as well as just like . a few mentions of felix having boobs. also theres a mention of sylvain wanting to eat pussy

Felix and Sylvain finished their dinners by the time that Megamind was over.

“So are there any other kid’s movies you wanna watch, or can I pick?” Felix reached for the remote on the coffee table and then settled back into Sylvain’s side.

“Hey, that is a quality movie that appeals to both kids and adults alike!”

“You sound like a commercial. My turn.” Felix went to the search page of his TV’s on-demand channel and started painstakingly typing in his choice on the world’s worst keyboard input system.

Sylvain tried to prematurely decipher what Felix was typing. “T-E-X. . . Texas?”

“Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“For real? That sounds scary, Babe.” Sylvain dared to call him “babe” to see what his reaction was.

“What did you just call me?” Felix turned and glared at him, but the hint of pink in his cheeks told him that maybe he wasn’t as mad as he seemed.

“Babe.”

“Why would you - What are you - Why?” His face got redder, and Sylvain’s goofy smile got wider.

“Because you’re my boyfriend, right?”

“Boy. Boyfriend." Felix was so cute when he was caught off guard. “We’re boyfriends?”

“If I wasn’t your boyfriend, would I do this?” Sylvain leaned over and pecked him on the lips.

“Boyfriend.”

Sylvain laughed. “Are you broken?”

“No. Shut up.” Felix scooched away from him and crossed his arms.

“Feeeeeelix come baaack,” Sylvain whined. “I need you to protect me from the scary ghosts from the movie we’re gonna watch.” Maybe he was laying it on too thick, but he sure was getting a cute reaction.

“Scary chainsaw man, actually. There’s no ghosts.” Felix found the movie and pressed play. “Come here, idiot.” He slid back over to Sylvain and sat on his lap. Sylvain was not prepared for that. “Just, like, hug me whenever you’re scared or whatever.”

Poor Sylvain was only a man. A man that was very attracted to the other man sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arms around Felix’s small yet sturdy waist. Felix leaned back against Sylvain’s chest, and all Sylvain could process was how warm and perfect he felt slotted against him like this. And how his bony ass dug into his thighs. But that cost was well worth the benefits. Benefits like being able to kiss Felix’s neck at any point during the movie (which he took full advantage of).

In fact, he began to do just that almost immediately after the movie began.

“What are you doing, Gautier?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?” Sylvain pulled back the collar of Felix’s shirt for better access.

“I guess, as long as it’s just that.”

“Of course, Baby.”

“You’re pushing your luck; you know that?” Felix craned his neck to look back at Sylvain

“I know,” Sylvain said with a kiss to Felix’s nose. “You love it, though.”

Sylvain began to suck hickeys onto Felix’s neck, not paying any attention to the movie whatsoever. Scary chainsaw man could not keep his interest. But sexy boyfriend man could. He squeezed his waist tighter. “Does that feel good?”

Felix’s face was red when he turned to glare at him. “It’s fine. Now pay attention because I’m not going to explain this movie to you.”

Sylvain did not pay attention. For the whole movie. All he could think about was the warmth and weight of Felix’s back pressing against his chest and how good he smelled and how beautiful he was. The movie finished way too soon for Sylvain’s liking.

Felix stood up, leaving Sylvain’s lap tragically empty. “I’m going to bed. I get up early on the weekdays to exercise. You can stay up if you want.”

Sylvain jumped up. “No, I can go to bed now too!” He was  _ not  _ going to pass up this prime opportunity to lay in bed with Felix.

“Okay, I guess. You don’t have to be so enthusiastic about it.” Felix walked towards what Sylvain assumed to be his bedroom door, and Sylvain followed him close behind.

Felix’s room was. . . cluttered, to say the least. There were piles of clothes all over the floor and several magazines that littered the nightstands on each side of the bed, which was unmade. Several pillows and Felix’s comforter laid on the floor at the end of the bed, and his dresser was covered with little trinkets and baubles, probably all things that had some sort of sentimental value to him. Hanging horizontally on the wall behind his bed and the wall behind his dresser were several decorative swords, one of which Sylvain recognized.

“So you still have this one,” Sylvain said, pointing to the top sword that hung above his bed. It was small and simple, but it looked exactly the same as Sylvain remembered it. “I remember getting you that one. You were turning, what, sixteen?”

Felix smiled and climbed on top of his bed to bring it down. “My dad hated you for that.” He handed it to Sylvain.

“It’s smaller than I remember. A lot smaller.” Sylvain ran his finger down the sharp edge. “Duller too.”

“Well, first of all, you’ve grown a foot since then. Second of all, I don’t want a sharp sword hanging above my bed where it could impale me at any moment.”

“That’s fair. It’s sweet that you kept it.”

Felix scoffed and looked at the floor. “Well, I’m not going to throw away a perfectly good sword.” He took the sword back from Sylvain and hung it back on the wall.

Sylvain looked at all of the trinkets Felix had scattered on his dresser. “Aww, you kept this too?” Sylvain picked up a small, crudely made clay figurine. “I remember making this in art class! I kind of forgot what it was supposed to be, though.”

“Careful with that,” Felix said, snatching it from his hand and putting it back on the dresser. “It’s supposed to be a dog. Remember, idiot?”

Sylvain smiled brightly. “I didn’t know you were still so sentimental.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are! You kept my shitty little clay dog all these years, and you display it proudly in your room! You’re so sweet.”

“Alright.” Felix grabbed both of Sylvain’s arms and yanked him away from the dresser, clearly flustered. “Enough memory lane. I’m changing, and then I’m going to bed.” Felix turned his back to Sylvain and stepped toward his closet. 

Sylvain fell silent as he watched Felix take his shirt off.  _ Oh God,  _ he thought.  _ He’s doing this on purpose.  _ His back muscles flexed as he tugged his bra over his head, and Sylvain felt like he was going to die. Felix covered his breasts with his arm and turned around. No, he was definitely already dead.

“Can you toss me that shirt that’s on the bed?” Felix asked.

Sylvain was frozen, staring at the thin hair that dusted his chest.

“Sylvain. Are  _ you  _ broken?”

“Yes. I mean - Um, no. No. What was the question? It’s hot in here.” 

“Sylvain. Shirt. On the bed.”

“Right.” Now the challenge was getting his arms to function. “Shirt. On the bed.” He barely managed to toss it far enough.

Felix turned back around and put his shirt on, then released his hair from its ponytail. Sylvain let out a sigh of relief; he survived. He let his guard down a moment too soon, though, because next, Felix took off his pants. Yes, his ass was flat. Yes, Sylvain still thought it was the sexiest ass in the world.

“I sleep in my underwear,” Felix said as he turned back around to face Sylvain. “I hope you don’t mind. I just put a shirt on because, you know.”

_ Oh my God,  _ Sylvain thought as if he had a revelation,  _ there’s boobs under that shirt. And there’s a coochie in there.  _ He blatantly stared at Felix’s crotch. Even that was cute, with the little tufts of hair that poked out on each side of his underwear.  _ Oh my God. He’s sexy, and he’s my  _ boyfriend. Sylvain had never wanted to eat pussy more in his entire life.

Fine. Sylvain’s turn. “I don’t wanna get your bed all dirty, so I’ll sleep in my underwear too,” he declared a little too proudly.

Felix sounded like someone had just punched him in the gut. “Sure.”

Now it was Felix’s turn to stare at Sylvain as he took off his shirt. Sylvain knew he was sexy. He knew it because if he wasn’t, girls wouldn’t constantly throw themselves at him. Felix started intently at his chest and arms, built and hairy and strong. His eyes followed Sylvain’s hands down his slightly bulging stomach to his pants as he stripped them off. Felix looked away, his face burning red.

“You’re just trying to get me riled up,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Well,” Sylvain replied, “It’s working, isn’t it?”

Felix didn’t reply, and Sylvain knew he had won. Well, that is, until Felix sauntered over to him and stood on his tiptoes to give him a kiss. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pressed into him so hard that Sylvain almost fell over. He could feel  _ every  _ curve of his body, and that was  _ not _ playing in his favor. “Let’s get in bed,” Felix said, taking his hand. “You sleep on that side.” He pointed at the left side of the bed. “The right side is mine.”

Sylvain smiled. He was so fucking cute, and he didn’t even know it. “I know. I remember.”

Felix rolled into bed, soon followed by Sylvain. “Mmm come here,” Sylvain whispered.

“What,” Felix turned to look at him.

“I wanna snuggle.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but his slight blush betrayed him. “Fine.” He maneuvered himself backwards so that his back was pressed against Sylvain’s chest. “Happy?”

“Very.” Sylvain wrapped his arm around his waist and kissed one of the hickeys he left earlier. Felix’s hair smelled nice. Sylvain wondered what shampoo he used. “Would it be weird if I asked to hold your boob?” That was such a stupid question. Why did he ask that?

“Yes.”

“Yes to me holding your boob, or yes to it being weird for me to ask that?”

“Both.”

Weird as the question was, it paid off. Sylvain slid his hand under Felix’s shirt. His skin was smooth and soft, a sharp contrast from the lean muscle he had built from what was probably years of exercise. He traced the lines of his body upward until he found one of Felix’s breasts, holding it gently in his hand. Sylvain had touched a lot of boobs in his life, but this one took the cake. It was soft and warm and the perfect size: small enough to fit perfectly in his hand.

“Having fun?” Felix said, startling Sylvain out of his boob-induced trance.

Sylvain kissed his neck again. “Yes. Your boob is perfect.”

He could practically feel Felix roll his eyes. “Well, your hand is warm, so I don’t  _ hate  _ having it there.” That was Felix Language for  _ I like having your hand on my boob, but I’m too embarrassed to say that.  _ “Are you going to fall asleep like that?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain said with a smile.

“Fine.” Felix reached over to his bedside table to turn his lamp off, and the two of them fell asleep just like that: pressed up against each other with Sylvain’s hand on his boob.

**Author's Note:**

> i am on twitter @studiobreck i draw lots of trans felix !


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